


Cleaning the Kennels at Winterfell

by Sookiestark



Series: Ghost Stories of Westeros [12]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ghosts, Healing, House Cleaning, House Stark, POV Alternating, Ramsay is His Own Warning, Spring Cleaning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-03-20 18:30:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13723521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sookiestark/pseuds/Sookiestark
Summary: After the Battle of Bastards, Lady Sansa Stark decides to do some cleaning at Winterfell. She decides to personally clean the kennels.





	1. Cleaning Winterfell

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my drive for a long time. I decided to do some early spring cleaning. For me, this story is about how Sansa deals with what has happened to her home, her household, her family and herself in a very traditionally female way, by cleaning it. 
> 
> While thinking about this story, I started to think about all the household staff and what they also went through and their grief and loss, so this is also about them. 
> 
> I know it says there will be 6 chapters but I don't think this should be more than 6 thousand words.

Lady Catelyn Stark always cleaned the castle once a year. They would pull out huge ancient furniture to clean behind and underneath, repair what was broken, sweep the cobwebs, oil the wood, and wash the stones. It was a great deal of work, and even the Lady would help with the cleaning, as well as supervising. Every able-bodied person would help, including all the Stark children. Lady Catelyn would talk about how it was good stewardship, much like they took inventory of the stores or listened to the lords complaints. All of this was good practice, to repair and clean what could still be used. To throw away what was broken. At least once a year, everything was cleaned to have space for the new year, new hopes, new love, new gifts, new beginnings.

Sansa can hear her mother’ voice, “Nothing feels better than after a good cleaning.” 

When she was young, she would dread her mother’s yearly cleanings. She would wish that she was as disobedient as Arya who would hide or that she was a boy, like Robb, who could do most of the heavy lifting, but none of the washing, which Sansa hated.

When she became Lady Bolton, she had dreams of cleaning the space. She could see the disrepair, the disregard as if the treachery of the Bolton’s and Ramsay’s madness had touched the space itself as if space reflected the soul of the Bolton’s. She had promised herself that would be her first act as Ramsay’s wife, to clean Winterfell. Gently, she could remember back to the morning of her wedding, making a list in her mind of what she would do the next day.

However, many things had changed by the next morning and she realized that her only job as Ramsay’s wife was to take whatever cruelty he desired and give him an heir. She was kept under lock and key, except when Northern lords paid a visit to Winterfell. 

 

So, when Ramsay was defeated, she could not stand it. Riding into Winterfell victorious, she remembered coming back into the yard and still feeling the presence of Ramsay and all his ghosts. Sansa knew as she dismounted from her horse that Winterfell must be cleaned from top to bottom. Walking across the yard, Jon was bloodied and dirtier than she had ever seen him. Still, she had hugged him tightly and almost cried just to see him. After they pulled apart, she had asked where Ramsay was. 

Jon looked at her, concerned and exhausted, “Bolton is in irons. He is yours. Whatever you see fit, I will help you.”

“I do not need your help. Please have him put in the kennels.”

Jon takes her hand and she thinks he will ask her if she is certain, but after looking into her eyes, he nods and orders his men to do as she says. 

 

Four days after Sansa gave Ramsay to his dogs, she let the Northern men burn Ramsay’s body in the yard. Sansa had wanted to put his head on a pike as a warning to all who might want to do harm against the Starks. But, Jon would not let her. Instead, he burned the body and disposed of the remains. 

Jon sent a few of his good men to kill Ramsay’s dogs. Sansa and Jon did not want to give the dogs, feral and dangerous, any undue fear or suffering, but there would be no way for them to be rehabilitated. She had felt a sadness at their poor lives of hunger, fear, beatings, and hunting humans. The guards had buried them in the fields outside Winterfell. 

Cleaning Winterfell will take longer than a day. First, she must find loyal household servants. Before she left Winterfell, there had been families that had served the Starks for generations. Many of those families have been wiped away by the Wars and Ramsay Bolton. When she looked over her household staff, they were many new faces. Some she kept. Some she dismissed. Some she threw in chains. It all depended on how loyal to her husband they were.

Still, Sansa wanted to return some of the families of servants back to Winterfell. After all, the household staff had thought of Winterfell as their home as well. She reached out to the nearby houses to find who she could. House Cerwyn sent Old Nan and Shyra. Shyra was one of the twin daughters of Hullen, Master of the Horse, who long since died. Shyra had fled with Old Nan, when Theon had captured Winterfell and walked to House Cerwyn, holding her hand and walking on the side paths. 

Shyra’s sister, Bandy had stayed, thinking that Theon would be a good lord and come to his senses. Winterfell was the only home she had known and she would not leave it. When Ramsay had taken Winterfell, Nyles, the new Master of Horse had cut her hair and told her to not speak. For two years, she had hidden, dressed as a boy, in the stables. Cutting her hair short, she had stayed out of the way of Ramsey’s wrath. Recently, she had flowered and it had been increasing in difficulty to hide that she was a girl. 

Wintertown had produced Turnip and Sage, Gage, the cook’s children. Gage had sent his sons in the dark with a pack to be fostered with an innkeeper who he had been friends with since childhood. The children, fourteen and eleven, arrived the day they won the Battle to pledge their loyalty to House Stark and work in the kitchens. Turnip looked so much like Gage that Sansa had hugged him when she had seen him. The boy had blushed at her affection and she had realized that she had acted impulsively in her joy at seeing familiar faces, safe and unharmed. 

Palla, Farlen’s daughter, the kennel master’s daughter, had been hidden by the kitchen staff to look plain They had put her red hair in a scarf and she had learned to work in the kitchen in the stable. Ramsay put her father’s head on a spike in the yard and it had stayed there until Jon took it down and buried him in the lichyard. Sansa knows a little of what the girl must be feeling, but she is safe now. 

Palla is seventeen and Jon has already named her the kennel mistress and tasked her with the job of rebuilding the stock of dogs for Winterfell. Some people have questioned this decision. After all, she is a woman and young, but when Jon asked Sansa what she thought of the idea, she had said it was a wonderful idea and agreed. 

Sansa finds herself drawn to these five children. Every day, she checks in with them, to see if they have eaten, to see if they are well, to see how their jobs are going. She feels a connection with them and worries about them. One night, when Jon and her are alone by the fire, she is talking about them, “Petyr says I shouldn’t worry about them so. It shows weakness. I don’t know why I care so much.”

Jon reaches over and takes her hand. “I don’t think it shows weakness. It shows strength. You are a born leader. I know why you think of them so. There are five of them and there were five Stark children.”

Sansa sits thinking and says, “But there are six of us. Father had six children.”

Jon smiles at her, “That may be so... But there are only five Stark children.”

For a moment, she feels bad about all the slights and hurts she has caused Jon, all the minor and small ways she has made him feel less than her. Sansa looks at him, in the firelight, squeezing his hand, “But now, we are all that is left of House Stark 

 

When Sansa starts to clean Winterfell, Sansa invites the five children and Old Nan to help her personally. She wants them to be near her. It makes her feel safe and good. While they are cleaning, Palla tells her the stories about the kennels. Palla tells her of the pups and dogs that have been arriving as gifts from the Northern lords. Recently, House Cerwyn, House Mormont, and House Manderly all have given them some puppies their stock. 

While they clean the hallways, Sansa tries to get the girl to smile by making small talk and bringing up all the puppies. Everyone has stopped to see and play with the puppies that Palla keeps in the stable. The girl speaks softly, meeting Sansa’s eyes rarely, still afraid, “I keep them in the stables. There are bad spirits in the kennels. At night, all the servants hear the screaming and the crying and there is no one there. Milady, they are good pups, I would not want them to be hurt or turned by bad spirits hanging about. It is a bad place, the kennels.” 

 

Sansa decides that she will clean the kennels next. 

When she tells Jon, he tells her that he will have his men clean it, that she should not go there. Smiling, she hugs him, “I appreciate it. But I do not need your help.”

Lord Baelish says the work is beneath her and the Lords will not like it. Brienne offers to help her clean. After all, Brienne does not like the idea of Sansa working in such a dirty and foul place. Sansa says she has all the help she needs. Sansa invites the five children and Old Nan to help her clean. After all, they have lost a great deal, and remember what it was like to live in Winterfell before the Boltons. Perhaps once they clean it, whatever spirits haunt this place will rest. 

Deep inside her heart, Sansa believes that if she cleans it, they might be able to wash it all away. Wash it with soap and water. Scrub the stones. Sweep all the cobwebs out of the corners. In her sweat, in her care, it will become less Ramsay’s and more hers and Jon’s. Winterfell has been ill-used and must be cleaned and cared for. If it was only as easy with the people that have lived through it...


	2. Palla and the Chair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Palla's POV. 
> 
> So this is a story basically told from different people's pov about what happened when Ramsay was Lord of Winterfell. There are ghosts but they come later...

Palla knows Old Nan is sick, sicker than Lady Sansa knows. If Lady Sansa knew, she would not let her clean the kennels today. She would make her rest. 

Walking into the kennels, there are torches everywhere to shed light into the dark corners of this dread place. When Palla was a child, Lord Stark kept hounds in here and the Stark children’s direwolves. It was a happy place with brown dogs with dark happy eyes, wagging their tails and licking hands. Since she was a child in Winterfell, much has happened and much has changed. 

In the center of the first cage, Palla sees the chair, the chair that Lord Bolton was tied to, the chair he died in. It sits in the center of the cage, a strange object amid dog fur, spiderwebs, and dried blood, scattered around the floor in the shape of dog paw prints. 

This is where Ramsay had his last minutes. It is rumored in the kitchens and among the guards, that he had taunted Lady Sansa, even at the end. Palla remembers the way he was, He was arrogant, even at the end, thinking he had broken Lady Sansa like he had broken Theon and all the others. Ramsay Bolton had broken her, as well. But he had been wrong to think he had broken Lady Sansa.

Lady Sansa did not have nightmares like she did. She did not cry or feel his hands long after he was gone. She was stronger than most.  
The sight of the chair in this place is unsettling, disturbing and reminds her of all the times, Ramsay would sit in the chair, thinking of terrible ways to break her. 

When Old Nan saw the blood on the chair where Ramsay had sat, the color went from her face. She spoke, looking at the dried blood, “I am not feeling well sweet girl. Shyra had taken the woman to her room to rest. Lady Sansa had asked Shyra to watch over her awhile.

Lady Sansa had looked at her. Palla had wondered what she was thinking. Was she embarrassed or upset that the old woman had had such a strong reaction? It was upsetting, but Palla hoped Lady Sansa never regretted what she had done. It was justice. 

 

Lord Jon had approached her about taking over the kennels, being the kennel mistress.Her father, Farlen had been a good kennel master and loyal to the Starks. Nodding with tears in her eyes, she had excepted and taken to the task, wholeheartedly. Right now, she had seven pups in the stables, good, steady dogs. 

She remembered how much her father had regarded Lord Jon and Lord Robb, even when they were boys. He had always said that they would be fine men like their father. Palla had thought Robb was more handsome but since Lord Jon has returned she finds he has grown more handsome. There is something haunting and charming about him, all mixed up and covered in a lord’s black fur cloak.

 

When Palla had first entered the kennels at Lady Sansa’s side, she could feel the oppressive feeling of pain and suffering. The kennels seemed bigger and the task seemed overwhelming. Even Lady Sansa seemed overwhelmed. Lady Sansa spoke, “Maybe we should start with one cage at a time... We will start with this one.”

She pointed to the first one, the one with the chair, the one where Ramsay was eaten by his dogs.

Lady Sansa may be the child most like her mother, but she still has the blood of the First Men in her. She senses the evil, the darkness that has grown in Winterfell since the Starks left. Lady Sansa took Bandy with her and went to Wintertown to find a woods witch to clear the evil spirits, but no one would come. Lord Jon teases her that perhaps one of the spear wives could make some magic to get the dark spirits out of the kennel. When he speaks the words, Lord Jon laughs, but Palla knows he does it not to tease Sansa or be hurtful, but because he wants her to laugh and smile. He is said to rarely smile, but the first week they are home, he is all smiles and kindness to Lady Sansa and all the staff of Winterfell.

Palla takes a broom and starts to sweep. She knows that Lady Sansa knows that Ramsay took interest in Palla. After all, Lord Snow’s men found her locked in a room. Palla knows Lady Sansa will not ask her about it; she is too polite. Palla knows no one has to ask her because they can see it in her face. 

When Lord Ramsay first took over Winterfell, she was hidden in the kitchens and told by the women there not to speak too much, to not attract attention, and to tie her red hair into a scarf. Always obedient, Palla had done what she was told.

After all, her father had been killed and his head had rotted in the yard with anyone else’s who resisted Lord Ramsay. The Starks dogs were killed, as well. The kitchens kept her busy and it eased the pain. The kitchens also kept her from Ramsay and Myranda and their cruel games.

 

While she pushed the broom she thought about how Ramsay caught her in the kitchen, right before the battle with Lord Stannis, before Lady Sansa and Theon had escaped. Ramsay had come in the kitchens looking for an apple, bored and looking for trouble. Reek had been beside him, shifting from foot to foot, eyes downcast.

“You are pretty,” Lord Ramsay had said, eating an apple.

Reek looked up and gave her a quick warning look, before looking at his feet again. Lord Ramsay continued, “Why have I not seen you before?”

With a quick movement, Lord Ramsay had pulled at her scarf and her long red hair came free. “Your hair is so red. It looks like my wife’s, Lady Bolton.”

Easily distracted, he had wandered away and with shaking hands, Palla had hidden her hair away under the scarf. 

When Ramsay had returned to Winterfell, after defeating the Baratheon men, he had raged at finding his wife and favorite pet escaped. At first, it had been all anger. He had slaughtered a few guards where they stood. Then, he sent some more men out to find Lady Sansa and Reek. When word had come the next day, that the men he had sent after his wife had been slain, he had sent more. 

By the fourth day, Lord Bolton had realized that his wife had slipped from his grasp. He had brought Lady Sansa’s maid to his bedchambers. For three days, he used her roughly. On the seventh day, her mutilated body was thrown from the window. No one dared touch her, but everyone knew the death was a mercy.

Ramsay brought three girls from a Wintertown brothel. They lasted for over a moon. The last one died screaming as he flayed her in the yard, while Winterfell’s people continued working.  
By the third month, he went to the kitchens to find her. At first, the cook thought to hide her. But when Lord Ramsay asked for the red-haired girl, she stepped forward, eyes downcast, looking briefly at him, untying the hair scarf and letting her hair free. 

His smile was cold and cruel, but his touch was gentle. “You were once the Kennel master’s daughter. Old Farlen.” 

When he met her blue eyes, Lord Ramsay had said: “You will do until Lady Bolton returns.” 

He found her a ladies maid, had her washed and dressed in Lady Sansa’s dresses. She was seated at a table for dinner. He always had her seated with him for dinner. Lord Rickon was there. Lord Rickon was always there for dinner. He introduced her to Lord Rickon as Farlen’s daughter, an old friend to the Starks. Lord Rickon had always been kind and she had wished he had survived.

Lord Ramsay had locked her in the tower in Sansa’s old rooms. When he would bed her, he would whisper to her, sometimes calling her Sansa and sometimes calling her, Myranda. Palla learned to do what he liked and read him. If she could read him well, he may not hurt her at all. Of course, he always ended up hurting her, even if she could hold it off for a day or a week. 

As Sansa washed the blood off the chair to the walls, Palla felt herself get nauseous and left the kennel to get sick in the yard. She did not want Lady Sansa to think she was a wicked woman or that she had given herself freely, but she also did want her pity.

It was the chair that Ramsay would sit at his desk in his chambers. She wondered if he had tied Lady Sansa to the chair like he had her. She wondered if that chair had been chosen randomly or had Lady Sansa chosen it for a reason, for justice. Palla knew the wood and designs carved in that chair, every carving was in her memory. Palla remembered Ramsay sitting in that chair while she cried trying not to be too loud. She would get punished worse if she was silent. He liked her tears, that much she knew about him. His face was preoccupied, unreadable. It was a dangerous face, above such things as pain or fear or compassion. 

Watching Lord Ramsay through her hair in the semi-darkness of the room he kept her one night, Palla remembered willing herself to die. He would not kill her or set her free until Lady Sansa came home. She reminded him of his wife. Now that his child was inside her, he wanted the baby. He would keep her alive until that.

Lord Ramsay had told her once that he would take her on the hunt. She shudders to think what that might mean. 

 

Sansa heard Palla retching in a broken wooden bucket to collect waste in the yard. The Lady of Winterfell looked at the sky. It was still morning. She looked at the girl who was only a little younger than herself. She was pale with dark circles around her pale blue eyes, With an apology, Palla took the handkerchief that Sansa offered, “Excuse me, milady. My stomach has been sour.”

Sansa replied,“Pregnancy will do that I have heard.” 

“My lady... I am sorry.” 

“They say it is Ramsay Bolton’s child.”

“It is, my lady. I am sorry. I was afraid and could not resist. Please do not force me to leave Winterfell. I have no other home.”

“Shhh.. Palla, you are home and no one will ask you to leave. You needn’t worry. I understand... Some of my favorite people are named Snow.” Sansa smiles like she has a secret, but everyone in Winterfell knows how much love and regard she has for her brother. 

It is good that the Starks have come back to Winterfell.

Palla survived and her child would be different than its father. She would never tell her baby about who his father was or how he delighted in tears and blood. When they are done cleaning the chair, Sansa has it put in the library to grow dusty. If Ramsay's ghost remains near it, Palla thinks he will hate being stuck in the library.


	3. Theon's cage and Kyra's beads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a mix of the show and the books. I wanted to give an example of the folks who died at Ramsay's hands.. because later we might see them again. Anyway, I hope you liked it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Next chapter will be about Rickon and the one after that will be about Walda and her son.

Sansa knows there are a great many secrets in Winterfell. She only begins to know a fraction of them, even the ones that have happened since she has resided here. When she was a child, she would often try to know all the secrets. She would listen to whispered conversations around corners and try to make out the meanings. She wanted to know all the secrets of Winterfell, past, and present and would sometimes, wish to never leave, but she knew she would. After all, she would be married off to an eligible lord. She was Lord Eddard Stark’s eldest daughter, a good match. 

The last few years the number of secrets, pain, and sorrow have increased and she does not think she wishes to know all that has happened inside the walls of Winterfell. She is sweeping the kennels in the back, as she sweeps pieces of stones, debris, and little pieces of white rock. She leans down and picks them up trying to see what is. As she runs her fingers over them, she thinks that they might be bone. After all, this is the kennel and dogs chew bones. There is a darker idea that these are not the bones of cows or deer. There are stories of how Ramsay would feed his hounds the humans he hunted. Quickly she drops the items in her hand and continues sweeping, afraid she might get sick. Sweeping quickly, more and more white bone comes up with the dirty straw. Sansa sweep with a focus, determined to clean each corner, each crevasse. She hopes they are all from meat and none for people who lived here in Winterfell. 

 

There is a miserable cage in the corner and in the farthest corner of the cage is a moldy blanket on a miserable pile of hay. It was too small a place for Ramsay’s hounds. Ramsay always tried to keep his dogs well- treated and this seems too poor, too cold. Sansa calls over Bandy, “What is this place?”

“This is where Lord Bolton kept Reek. He wanted it kept for him, for when he returned. Do not worry, milady. I will clean it. Do not bother yourself.”

 

This rotten rat- eaten blanket and dirty hay on the floor was the place that Theon had lived in among the dogs. There were some old dried blood stains on the floor and she wondered how he survived in this cold dark place. She imagined him laying on the stone in pain Theon tended his hurts after he was flayed. In the cage, Sansa tries to imagine what it had been like for a man as weak and injured as Theon, sleeping on the cold stone. She wondered how he ever survived how he even withstood it. 

She remembers her cruelty and her callousness when she first came to Winterfell. Now, that she knows what this place is, Sansa can remember wandering into the kennels and finding Theon in this dirty cage. Sansa feels the flush of shame as she remembered how glad she was that Theon was Reek, hurt, humiliated, tortured. Now, she knows differently. Now, she knows how no one deserved Ramsay’s torture or care. She wishes she had been kinder but she cannot take back what has happened. Instead, she will clean the cage. 

 

Sansa says, “I will clean it.” 

 

She sweeps and sweeps, She cannot stand so she bends down. Sansa must crawl in the cage. She gets a brush and sweeps on her hands and knees in the corner of the cage that Reek, once-Theon, slept. Sansa is ashamed how small and dark and haunted the place is and that she reveled in Theon being trapped here, how much she hated Theon, at first and later she came to realize that he has been hurt and cruelty was not justified. Cruelty has its limits. It did not for Ramsay.

As she cleans, she recognizes a truth. This is the future Ramsay had hoped for her. Maybe, even a grimmer future, even a more twisted creature. She has enough scars on her body to know the truth of this realization. Perhaps with enough time, she would have broken as Theon had. How long would it take to break in a dirty dark cage while you cried in pain?

While she is wiping tears from her cheeks, three small glass beads of blue catch her attention in pile of dirt and garbage. She picks them up in her hand. They are hand painted and though they are not worth much, they are pretty. Climbing out of the cage, Sansa shows them to Palla, “Where do you think they came? What are they?”

Palla touches them carefully in Sansa’s hand as if they will burn. “Milady, I don't know... Wait, there was a girl, a tavern wench that Theon brought up from the town when he took Winterfell. Her name was Kyra. She would wear a necklace with a whole string of these beads. She used to think they were fine and pretty.” 

“Kyra?”

“Kyra… She worked in a tavern in winter town. Kyra had strawberry blonde curls. She was pretty. Theon kept her as his mistress until Lord Ramsay became Lord of Winterfell. Lord Ramsay took her and used her roughly but he also had her warm his bed often. So often that Myranda got jealous and Kyra went out on the hunt and never came back. It is spoken, she tried to get Reek... Theon.. to run away with her.”

Sansa remembers Theon like he is two different people in her head, Theon, from her childhood where he is more like a brother, and Theon as Reek, as Ramsay’s pet who had the old woman flayed because he would not help her escape. Maybe, Theon had thought there was no escape from Ramsay. Maybe, he was trying to protect her. 

 

As she stands there, Sansa remembers back to one night when she was realizing what it meant to be Lady Bolton. She was bleeding and hurt and Theon came with bandages and ointment, quiet and broken to help her. Maester Walkan could not see the damage that Lord Bolton did to his lady wife but Reek was his pet and could see. Lord Ramsay delighted in watching how he could hurt his wife and Reek would not do anything. 

“We could escape,” she had said to him, as he washed her wounds.

He looked back at her with his broken and dead eyes. “No, Master will know. There is no escape. We are safe here, safer than out there. Master knows. We mustn’t make him angry. We are loyal. We are good.” 

 

Sansa wonders why Theon chose a redhead of all the girls he could choose. Kyra had red hair. Once when she was still a girl, maybe twelve, Theon had taken her arm and pulled her close in the hallway. She had giggled at being so close to him. He had “One day, I will be Lord of the Iron Islands. Lord of Pyke. Perhaps when I am, I will ask for your hand from your father and you will be my wife.” 

She had wanted to protest, but for a second, she looked at him and thought maybe she wouldn’t mind being Lady of the Iron Islands. Then he had touched a piece of her hair and had kissed her forehead, whispering, “Lady Sansa Greyjoy.”

He had spoken it reverently as if it was a promise he made to her. Then, Theon had turned and gone to find Robb. They had never spoken of it. 

Sansa remembers Theon another time, they are in the snow, running as the darkness of the wolfswood gathers. She is certain she will freeze to death. Her feet are frozen and wet in her boots. Her skirts are stiff and weigh an extra ten pounds weighed down and stiff with ice. All she wants to do is lay down and go to sleep but Theon won’t let her rest. 

He keeps pushing her to keep moving, keep pushing their tired bodies to move away from the horror and the danger. They find refuge under a huge rotting tree. Her body aches and burns. She is terrified and she feels the adrenalin slipping from her body leaving her body weak and injured. Theon clutched her to keep her warm.

“We need a fire,” she said.

 

He spoke, “We cannot. A fire will bring them straight to us.” 

“We will die in the snow with no fire.” 

Theon looked around trying to figure out how he could keep them alive. It was then they heard Ramsay’s hounds, baying in the near distance. He took her eyes with his as he took her hand. For the first time, Theon looked like old Theon. His eyes were clear and with purpose. He held her hand with his ruined one. “I will lead them off.”

Fear was thick in her voice and she said, “No, don’t leave me.” 

“Listen,” he looked at her. “You keep heading North. You are Sansa Stark of Winterfell. People will help you. The North Remembers. You must keep going... To Jon and the Wall.” 

 

When all was lost, Theon came back to her. Of course, he did not have to sacrifice himself because Brienne and Pod had come. Sansa prayed to the Seven that Theon was safe and well, wherever he was. 

 

Sansa wonders about this girl Kyra. She thinks back to before and cannot remember her or any word of her. Later, tonight she might ask Jon if he remembers. This girl, who tried to encourage Theon to escape with and who he kept three blue beads in the crack of the floor. She cannot say how she knows he kept them or why, but she knows this is Theon. He kept these to remember Kyra. In the darkness, did he feel the smoothness? What tiny act of rebellion was this? What would have happened to him if Ramsay had found them?

What does all of this mean? What purpose was all this pain and death? How long would it take to be stronger and get over this? She slips the three blue beads in her pocket.

Sansa called for some water and lye. She would wash the floor and move on. She had to keep moving, just like in the wolfswood on that snowy evening. She had to keep moving or she was afraid the horror and pain would freeze her and trap her in this horrible place for the rest of her life. 

 

Cleaning the kennels was the first step.


	4. Sansa and the Baby's Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.. this isn't about Rickon- That will be next chapter. This is about Walda and her baby. Also, Jon and Sansa

It is Bandy who finds the baby’s bones. They were almost finished, almost over when she found it. In the far back of one of the cages, there was a bit of knitted cloth, a bit of velvet, dirty from the mess of dogs and dirt. There are some bones in the shred of velvet, tiny bones, the size of a newborn, a piece of skull, a femur, a tiny foot. Bandy looked confused, “What is this?” 

As they gathered around her, she dropped the bones and grew pale. “It is Lady Walda’s son.”

Palla grew pale and rushed to the yard to get sick again. Bandy started to cry and apologized. Turnip opened his arms and held Bandy as she wept. Sansa thought to herself how she wished she had someone to comfort her while she cried. Her thoughts went to Littlefinger who would welcome the chance to comfort her. She would never show weakness to Petyr Baelish.

Sansa pulled her apron off and gently wrapped them up. She looked to Sage, “Sage, go to the kitchen and ask for a box. A nice one. Perhaps one that the spices are sent in. Something pretty. Big enough.”

She holds a scrap of velvet. It is embroidered with flowers. It was from Walda’s favorite dress, the only one she could wear when she was late in her pregnancy. The knitted blanket is red. Sansa remembered her making this blanket. She would come to her room sometimes and talk of boy’s names, good names for her son. 

Sansa sits stops, still kneeling. Her hands are red and cracked from the lye and the cold water. She is holding the remains of Walda Bolton and her baby. She wonders if she had named him. She had heard rumors of what Ramsay did to Walda and his infant brother. She believed them but she did not know for certain. Now, she is so very certain. 

Sage comes with a box. It smells like cinnamon or cloves and has a beautiful scene carved on the top. Sansa smiles at the boy as she places all of the scraps and the bones in the box. Absently, she rubs the top of Sage’s head, “Thank you, Sage. I will need Maester Walkan sent to my solar.”  
“Yes, my Lady Should I call Lord Snow, as well, to attend to you?”

“Yes, that would be fine. But do not bring Lord Baelish.”

Before she reaches the light of the yard, Bandy calls for her. “My Lady Sansa… I am so sorry. I did not mean.. I am so sorry.”

Sansa can barely hear the girls sobs. She wonders why she is crying and apologizing. She is thinking about how quickly a newborn will die in the mouth of a dog. She is thinking if Walda named him Roger or Ragnar or Rourke. She hopes she named the baby. 

When she reaches her room, she closes the door and looks at the fireplace. She places the box on her table amid all her papers, all her messages. Sansa remembers what it was like to be Ramsay’s wife. 

Sansa is sure she will die in this locked room. She sometimes wishes for it. Her only company is Reek. Nothing is as it should be. She should be loved and cherished. She is finally home in Winterfell, but she is still mistreated. Sansa has begun to lose hope that anything will ever be as it should be again. 

Sansa stops eating. Sansa stops getting out of bed. Ramsay brings his father to see her. Sansa cannot hear what the words they speak are. Words do not matter anymore. She does hear something Lord Bolton says, “You have played your games too roughly. She is only a girl. No more, Ramsay. No more fun. What good is a Stark wife if she cannot sit beside you?” 

The next day and every day after, she is washed and dressed and let out of her room to visit with the only suitable company in the keep, Lady Walda Bolton. Sansa is led to the Lady of Winterfell’s rooms where she is stitching clothes for her baby and talking of baby names. Lovingly and with pride, Walda rubs her stomach, smiling. She shows Sansa the blanket she is knitting and how it is made of soft lamb’s wool. 

Sansa thinks she might cry from frustration. She wonders if she jumped from the window would she die. At that moment, servants come in and Walda laughs and smiles like a happy child with a secret. Walda laughs as they serving girls lay lemon cakes and berries with oranges n a rich sugared sauce, raisin scones, fresh butter and cinnamon bread with nuts. Walda pours two glasses of fresh milk and makes a plate for Sansa like they were sisters and not strangers. 

“You must eat for your baby, Sansa.”

“I am not pregnant and I will not eat. Walda, help me. Help me, please. You know what he does to me.”.

Sansa, I will tell you a secret. I know what it is to be unhappy. All my life I was, but now, I am Lady Bolton, married to Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell and the Dreadfort. I will be a mother soon. You must eat. You must pray. The Mother will help ease your suffering. Please eat Sansa.

Sansa remembered eating. She remembered how her stomach ached until she ate. Sansa remembered something else about her time with Walda. Every minute of her time with her, Sansa hated her, despised her, wished her misery and woe. Fat Walda Frey, who was so happy and proud, who rubbed her belly like the baby inside her was a prize. Sansa had wished terrible things to happen to her and her smug fat face. 

Now, she wished she could go back and erase her uncharitable thoughts. Kind, gentle Walda, who had loved being the Lady Bolton of Winterfell, because she was finally special and treated with some dignity. Sansa hoped her death was quick for her and her son. She hoped there was no fear, but Sansa was not a silly girl, She forced herself not to think of it as the bile rose in her throat.

Maester Walkan knocked on the door. She shows him the bones. She sees him pale and recoils from the box. For a moment, Sansa wonders what was his role in their deaths. Maester Walkan speaks, “I sent the remains that were found of Lord and Lady Bolton to the Dreadfort for a proper burial. We can send these remains, as well.”

He goes to collect the box and leave. Sansa does not want that man anywhere near the child’s remains. “No. Leave them. Go.” 

She does not know how long she is sitting at the table When Jon knocks on her door, it startles her but she does not answer. After the second knock, Jon opens the door and calls her name. Uncertain, he steps into her room, “Sansa…”

“We found the bones of an infant, Lady Walda’s son. He might have been less than an hour old when Ramsay …”

She opens the box and hands it to Jon. Jon sets it on the table. He looks at Sansa, searching her face. 

Jon speaks, “We must bury them.” 

“Yes, of course.”

 

“Shall I take them?”

“No. not yet. Lady Bolton and the baby must go back to the Dreadfort and be buried there. The rest... I do not know.” As Sansa speaks, she places the pieces of bones she found throughout the day on the table. There are eleven pieces of bone. They could be all from the same person, or they could all be different victims." 

Jon looks at her and crouches beside her to look at her, “I will take these to the lichyard. I will handle this. You are overwrought. It has been a difficult day.” He collects the bones and puts them in a pouch. 

Gently, he takes her hand. “Sansa, your hands are bleeding. You overextended yourself. Let me call Maester. We will get you something to sleep.”

“I do not like our Maester, Jon. Write Oldtown and request another.”

 

Sansa shows him the three beads. “Do you remember a girl named Kyra that Theon liked? He probably spoke rudely about her. These are from Kyra, a girl from Wintertown. She liked Theon. She tried to save Theon. Do you remember her? Do you?”

He touches her face. “I don’t. Theon talked about lots of girls and I did not listen. Robb did. Sansa, it's okay. We will bury them. We will make it right and good, We can make Winterfell safe.” 

“Is anyplace truly safe?"

At first, Jon doesn’t answer. Instead, he goes to her vanity and takes a cloth and some lotion. He takes her hand, rubbing the cream in her hand. She smiles to see him worry over her. Jon smiles back as he wraps her hand. Finally, he speaks, “Now, Winterfell is safe.”

“Only because we are here now and we rule here.”

Jon looks in the fire and speaks, “We are here now. But we will do all we can to make sure there will always be a Stark in Winterfell.”


	5. Bandy, the Key, and the Lost Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is my response to how the show handled Rickon Stark compared to the books. It is hard to believe the North would offer no help to reclaim Winterfell if Rickon Stark was being held, prisoner.

Turnip loves Bandy and she loves Turnip. It shook him when she found the baby’s bones. He thinks that is the worst that could happen. But Bandy has lived through the Boltons. She knows there are worse things, more horrifying. There are suits made of human skin. There are men who revel in pain and hurt. There is darkness in all hearts. 

She is still adjusting to sleeping in the servant’s quarters. Lady Sansa is trying to make her a lady’s maid or maybe even a nurse if the family ever has children. Lady Sansa wants better for her but she doesn't know Bandy. Bandy loves horses. Her sister, Shyra, would like to be a lady’s maid, but not Bandy. 

There is something calming about the sound of horses stamping and the sounds of their breathing in the darkness that stills her fear. She loves the horses, riding them, brushing them, looking into their soulful eyes. Bandy only wants to work in the stable. But she does not tell Lady Sansa. She does not speak at all. Instead, she tries to be a humble lady’s maid and she never sleeps in the warm clean room she has been given. Not just because of the stillness, but because the darkness in her heart does not allow her any rest.

The bones of the baby reminded her of her own cowardice and her shame. She finds Bandy in the kitchen after dinner. She cannot speak because her throat is tight and dry. He can see she has been crying. As soon as he finishes wiping down the kitchen, he takes her hand and leads her to his room. It is almost unheard of that a kitchen boy would get their own room. But Lady Sansa’s kindness and the lack of staff has given him his own room. It used to be a storage room, but it stays warm near the kitchens, 

Turnip sneaks Bandy into his room. She knows there will be trouble if she is found there. Perhaps, they will make them marry. He wouldn’t mind that. In fact, she knows that would make Turnip very happy. Bandy would not let him marry her. She feels like there is a dark stain on her, her failure to House Stark. 

As they lay there in his small straw mattress, Bandy weeps softly in his chest. Not long ago, Bandy was known as Bo and Bo was a stable boy who slept with the other stable boys in the loft with the hay above the horses. 

It was a long day and some days it was difficult but Bo liked it. It kept him away from Lord Ramsay. The Master of the Horse was always the one who attended to Lord Ramsay’s personal horse. It was luck that got Bo the job of feeding the prisoner. Lord Ramsay had liked the idea of keeping Lord Stark’s heir in the stable and being attended to by stable boys.

However, Maester Walkan had spoken gently to Lord Ramsay about how the Northern Lords would not take to Ned Stark’s being kept tied in a stall and had explained if he kept Rickon Stark roughly in a dungeon or if he was seriously mistreated in any way that every man in the North might rise up to tear the walls of Winterfell apart. After all, Rickon was not a girl married or a ward, but an heir to Winterfell and Old Lord Stark’s legitimate heir. It was already rumored that there were several plots to free Rickon Stark.

Bo’s job was to feed Lord Rickon his breakfast and lunch. Maester Walkan had chosen Bo because he was a quiet, clean boy. Lord Ramsay would have Rickon Stark as his personal guest at dinner so that visiting Lords could see how well he was treated and not misused. Rickon got Lady Sansa's old rooms with the locked door.

On the first day, Bandy was allowed to enter the room and bring him food. Rickon looked at him like he was a boy and Bo went about his business, directing a maid to bring in water so he could wash and an empty chamber pot. Rickon did not speak. He just looked out the locked leaded window. At lunchtime, Rickon asked, “What happened to Osha? The woman who I came with?”

Bandy spoke softly, “She displeased Lord Bolton.” 

Rickon looked at her and then at the window.

“Lord Bolton..” he mumbled under his breath.

Bandy continued, hoping to lift his spirits. “Maester Walkan asked to bury her in the lichyard as a way to honor her and Lord Ramsay agreed to it.” 

Rickon looked like he might cry. “Was her death quick?”

 

“I believe so… my lord." She didn’t know if she should call him by his title. What she wanted to tell him was that it was so much quicker than it could have been. The old woman who had tried to help Sansa had lasted for hours. Some of his victims lasted for days. 

 

Bandy pours a glass of milk out and sets the food and goes to stand near the door while Rickon eats. Bandy must wait to collect the dish and silverware and bring it back to the kitchens. Rickon Stark must not be allowed to keep a knife or a fork. 

Rickon stands up, talking more to himself. Bandy has no power to help him. “Osha would not want to be buried. She would want to be burned. Only ash does not walk again.” 

Bandy did not want to think what the wildling lord might have meant but she knew. She had heard rumors of north of the Wall and how the wildlings believed the dead could continue to walk. She had heard that Castle Black had fought some and Jon Snow had led the men against the dead at Hardhome.

As Bandy picks up the plate, Rickon speaks to her, “What is your name, boy?”

“Bo, my lord.”

 

“Bo, I will see all wrongs are righted. I swear to you that with every breath I have I will work to right the wrongs were done.”

“You must not talk like so, my lord. Maester Walkan risks much more than his life and yours by keeping you safe and out of the dungeons You must speak carefully until help comes. Promise to speak carefully.”

The boy did not make any promises but he spoke no more about such things.

Every day, she talks to Rickon. Once or twice, Maester Walkan pulls him in a quiet hallway or corner and asks him if Rickon seems well.

“Well enough, my lord.”

“Good. Sometimes too much silence and solitude can affect a person negatively. Children kept in confinement can have more adverse effects. If he acts unusual, please let me know.” 

“I will, Ser. I can't speak to him for too long. Lord Bolton will be angry. Clay will tell. Clay always watches to see how long I take.” Clay was Rickon’s guard. Clay was a man as pale as sand on the river and as old, with a taste for ale. 

“Do not worry. He won't.”

Bandy wonders what the Maester does but Clay never tells how long Bo spends with Rickon. Over the few weeks, they have an unlikely friendship forms. Rickon was a likable boy. They speak of horses, wolves, and hunting. Rickon loves to ride horses. Rickon is funny and kind and full of adventure. Bandy hopes he will live to ride again.

Bandy hears in whispers that Lord Jon Snow has left the Night’s Watch and taken up the cause to get back Winterfell. It is said Lady Sansa is at his right side in all things and they are desperate to get their home as well as their brother back. As Lord Jon and Lady Sansa went over the North recruiting men from loyal houses, they would tell the Northern Lords about Rickon and how Lord Ramsay had Ned Stark's youngest son. It was spoken in whispers that Lord Snow received support to free his youngest brother. At the mention of Rickon Stark, horses, steel, and soldiers would be given. 

A fortnight before the battle, one of the blacksmiths slips her a key in the yard. He does not speak. Later, after dinner, he will pull her to him. “The key is to Lord Rickon’s room. Set him free when the time is right. The North Remembers. There is but one Lord of Winterfell and his name is Stark.”

She looked at him, feeling the iron key hiding in her shoe. Quietly, she repeats, “The North Remembers.” 

 

A week before the Battle of the Bastards, as Bo is serving Rickon’s lunch, Rickon takes his hand and speaks, “I am not stupid. I know things. I know you are a girl dressed as a boy. I know you do that as a way to protect yourself from harm. I know what Ramsay Snow is capable of. I know what he did to your father. We will avenge them. We will tear out their throats and drape their intestines from the trees like the First Men, like wolves. Jon is coming. Bran will come. The North men will follow. House Stark will rise again.”

She smiles and says loudly, “Do not speak such foolishness, my Lord.”

As she leaned over him to take his plate, she whispers, “Do not lose hope. Help is outside the gates. The North Remembers.”

Rickon’s face broke into a smile and impulsively, he kissed her on the cheek. She blushed and touched the spot, hurrying from the room. 

At breakfast, the next day Rickon whispers to her, “Who knew my home would be my prison?”

Bandy thought to herself as your sister, Lady Sansa, probably thought the same. She whispers in the crook of his neck, “Have faith, my Lord. You will see your brother will win and he will make you Lord of Winterfell. You will be a family again.” 

She squeezed his hand and collected the tray. This time he kissed her cheek but it was not an impulsive act. 

Before lunch was served, Bandy did chores in the stable but all she could think about was the key she had hidden in the hay in the loft. She thought about the key in the hay and how it put all the horses and all the stable boys at a terrible risk for painful death. She thought about how Rickon was the Lord of Winterfell in truth. She thought about what Lord Ramsay did to folks who were treacherous. She thought about the distance to House Cerwyn and about the troops gathering outside the walls of Winterfell. 

By lunchtime, Bandy had decided tonight she would give him the key today. She places it in her shoe. As she walks across the yard, she sees the blacksmith dead, flayed and frozen in the yard. His face is a rictus of pain. Fear constricted her throat but she continued walking. Fear made you lose your wits and do something foolish. Keep breathing she kept saying to herself. Keep breathing and keep her wits. 

When she serves Rickon lunch, she is so afraid. She cannot move and she feels like she cannot breathe. The key is burning her foot but she is too afraid to take it out and give it to him. Instead, she sees Pate, Rowe, and Tom, the other stable boys flayed in the yard, screaming to be killed. 

Rickon touches her face as she collects his plate. He whispers to her, standing. “When I am Lord of Winterfell, I shall marry you and we will ride every day and do as we please.”

He kisses her, a small thing on her lips. After all, he is still young and there is no time. By the time she gets out of the room, her foot burns from the key in her boot. She goes to the kitchen to return the tray. Then, she slips into the dark crypts of Winterfell. Taking the torch from the wall, she goes down the rows of the dead Lords of Winterfell. She will hide the key here. It will be safe. All the stableboys and the horses will be safe. 

Bandy sees the lady, the carved marble statue of a woman. One of the few women statues in the crypt. There are words carved below her but Bandy cannot read them. Perhaps she is a goddess. She imagined that she was a fine lady and a mother. The lady would forgive her cowardice and her flaws and her desire to protect the staff of Winterfell, her family. Bandy hides the key behind the woman and flees. 

Bandy never sees Lord Rickon alive again. The next morning she begs off, saying she is unwell and Pate goes in her place.

After the great battle, Lord Jon carried Lord Rickon’s body into the crypts himself The red-headed wildling Tormund had said they should burn the body so it would not walk again but Jon would not hear it. Lord Jon spoke, “The Lords of Winterfell are buried in the crypts underneath Winterfell and Rickon will be buried with my father and Robb.”

Lady Sansa had sent for a stone worker to make a likeness for her father and youngest brother but what Bandy was most afraid of was if what Tormund had said was true and Rickon’s dead form was in the crypts, walking Surely, in death Lord Rickon would know Bandy’s cowardice. Perhaps, he would want vengeance for her inability to give him the key, for her betrayal.

Bandy hears Turnip’s heartbeat, slow and steady. She sits up and Turnip reaches for her but she does not o back to him. Instead, she goes to the crypts. She is certain he is down here and he is angry. He had told her he would marry her. What are the words of a captive boy made under duress a few days before his death? 

She finds the key and she thinks that his words were lovely, even if he meant none of it. Bandy wishes she was more than a girl with no sword, no army, no will. She wishes Maester Walkan had chosen someone else, someone fearless with an iron will. Instead, she was chosen. 

 

She brings it to Lady Sansa, who is at her table looking at the bones of a child. Bandy is crying “I am sorry, my lady. I am so very sorry.”

Bandy puts the key on the table with a thump. Sansa looks at the key “What is this?”

“I couldn't. I was so afraid.”

“What is it?”

“It is the key to Lord Rickon’s room. I am so sorry. I was so afraid.” She falls to the floor crying and the story unwinds from her heart.


	6. Sansa and the Ghosts of Winterfell

That night is restless for Lady Sansa Stark. There is a raging winter snowstorm, a blizzard with flashes of lightning and a howling wind. It is like Old Nan would say when she was a child that the Old Gods of Winter have woken and they are angry. It is cold in her room, even with a blazing fire. She wishes she was young and Arya was here. It is always better to have someone to sleep with through a winter storm for extra warmth and comfort.

Sansa's dreams are all full of dead people, full of ghosts. One minute she is staring at the fire, shivering under the blanket, listening to the wind shake the window panes and the next minute she is in the Great Hall of Winterfell. It is dark and the fire in the fireplace is dying. She is seated in the spot of the Lord of Winterfell, the seat that Jon sits in now. She is afraid of what lurks in the shadows and wishes she was not alone. However, she remembers her Mother and her place. She should never be afraid here. This is her home, and she will be safe now. 

She realizes she is not alone. She looks out into the Great Hall and sees an audience of ghosts. Some are weeping. Some are frightened. Some were angry. Some are laughing and drinking wine and full of joy. 

She recognizes some immediately, Rickon, Gage, Hullen, Maester Luwin. There are many girls, nameless girls. Some she will never know their names or who they are. They come and whisper words to her like she is listening to their petitions. Some are thankful. Some try to impart advice or wisdom. Walda cried and thanked her. Rickon seemed angry and blamed her for being too late. Luwin whispered her secrets and wished her well. They were thankful for the peace, for the respect, to have the Starks in Winterfell again. They whisper words of gratitude. Sansa cannot hear all their ghost words but she understands it, nevertheless. The last ghost to visit her is her Father. As he goes to take her hands, his head falls off his body.

Sansa wakes with a start. In a moment, she knows it was all a dream but her heart won't stop racing. Sansa starts crying for all that is lost and all that would never be the same. She feels a heaviness in her shoulders, in her heart, and fears it might never be lifted. The only cure for this heaviness is the feeling of comfort. She has not looked for comfort for years. She had been surrounded by strangers and enemies and could not seek comfort from them. Now, she is home and she could allow her defenses to crash down and cry. However, now all her family are lost or dead. Sansa lays in bed and thinks she still has one person left in her family.

Sansa resists that urge and thinks who else might care for her? Petyr’s room is not far. She could go there and get comfort from him and more, the kind of comfort women could get from men. She knows what he wants. After all, she knows how Baelish looks at her. What comfort was that? Empty words and broken promises, more of the same regret and heartbreak. Lies and more lies.  


She knew where she could find real comfort 

Jon’s room was next to hers. All her brothers and sisters have slept beside him but she had not. Sansa's room was attached to his by a door. They had spent months on the road, sleeping in whatever accommodations they could find. Sometimes, they had slept outside, camped in nearby tents. Sometimes in inns or small earth and timber keeps of lesser lords, sleeping near, sometimes in the same room, she on the bed and him on the floor with Ghost.

She had wanted to sleep close to him again. To hear his breathing and know she was safe if he was near. She did not feel safe.  
Sansa hesitated by the door unsure if he would turn her away, though that did not seem like Jon, She knocked gently she could not sleep in her room tonight.

Opening the door, she peered around the corner “Jon?’ Ghost was raising his head off the floor.

"Sansa?" A sleepy voice called from the dark bed. 

She crept in shutting the door behind her.

"I had some bad dreams, May I sleep with you? Like Arya and Robb would when we were young?" 

Jon sits up halfway, his hair messy from his pillow and sleep. "Of course... Are you okay?

"Yes." She says smiling, "I will be fine after some sleep." 

Jon lifts up the covers and she crawls beneath them, as close to him as propriety will allow. "Are you certain? I could get the Maester..." He says.

She wants to say so many things about how she misses Robb and she feels responsible for Rickon's death. She wants to tell him if Arya ever comes home she will apologize for so many things. Sansa wants to tell him how afraid she has been and how so many people have lost their lives here, terrified and alone. Instead, she feels Jon curl next to her, his arm protectively over her but respectfully over the blanket. He makes a contented sleepy sound. In less than a minute. she hears his breathing slow in the steady rhythm of sleep. Sansa feels herself falling into sleep. Here with Jon, she feels safety and comfort. Here with him, she knows all will be well.


End file.
